


Bloody Thump

by LaLainaJ



Series: Make Some Noise [89]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Blood Drinking, F/M, Partnership, Time Travel, klarolineauweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-08-27 06:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8391373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLainaJ/pseuds/LaLainaJ
Summary: Set during Season 4. Furious at Klaus, Caroline only sticks with him because they need to save Bonnie. Unfortunately, an unexpected spell means that she's stuck with him as her only ally and that's going to be tricky.





	1. Chapter 1

**Bloody Thump**

**(Prompt: kc + "We were sent back in time from a spell gone wrong and got stranded in the forest. It has only been a day, but I'm freaking out and... are you giving me bedroom eyes NOW OF ALL TIMES?!" AU Title from "Sour Cherry" by The Kills. Rated T).**

They're trudging silently, and it's _not_ a comfy silence. No, it was a seething, awkward _awful_ silence and Caroline's skin crawled, every part of her _dying_ to break it, as it dragged on and on and on.

She grits her teeth and resists the temptation, calling on her vast reserves of stubbornness.

Talking to Klaus had proven to be a very bad idea and she's not about to try it again. She was stuck with him until Bonnie was safe and sound then she could go on with her preferred Klaus management plan – pretending like he didn't even exist. For Bonnie she could endure the discomfort of the scornful glares Klaus kept tossing over his shoulder as he checked to make sure Caroline was keeping up.

They were kind of dumb and pointless, Caroline thought snidely. If she was going to leave she would have done it ages ago after they'd finished shouting at each other.

She pointedly ignores his eyes, scanning her surroundings. It hits her that she recognizes them, this particular path one she'd walked often as a child. Caroline used to spend her summers tearing through them with whatever friends could be coaxed outside to lose at hide and seek. She takes a sharp left, kicking branches out of her way to reveal an overgrown path. She doesn't bother to inform Klaus about the detour she was taking. He'd figure it out soon enough.

She hears a guttural curse a few moments later and smiles grimly in satisfaction. The leaves behind her rustle and Caroline walks faster once she can feel Klaus practically breathing down her neck. I thought," he says, his anger evident in the extra crisp way he enunciates, "that we'd established that I do, in fact, know how to read a map."

"We did," she agrees, matching his overly polite tone with a frosty one of her own. "But since I grew up here I don't need a map to tell me there's a huge, gross bog like fifty feet ahead. Elena and I used to tell Jeremy it would eat him if he got too close. Feel free to plow on through but I just bought these boots and they weren't cheap."

"Here I thought you were _desperate_ to save the Bennett witch." Klaus mocks. "And yet you can't even sacrifice your shoes to the task? Such _friendship_."

The noise Caroline lets out is low and disgusted and she needs to get away from him. Right now. Before she does something stupid and probably violent. She leaps forward, easing into her top speed within a few strides, whipping past trees so quickly they're nothing but a blur from the corner of her eye.

Klaus keeps up, could probably easily pass her, but he stays at her heels.

That turns out to be unfortunate.

Caroline's hit with a wave of something, nausea and a feeling of dizziness that she didn't think she'd ever be subjected to again. She stops abruptly and Klaus slams into her back, sending them both crashing to the forest floor. She lands hard, her wrist snapping on impact, and she lets out a high pitched yelp, rolling to her side and cradling it to her stomach. "Son of a bitch," she hisses, eyes shut tightly as she tries to push the pain away so she can figure out what's wrong.

Vampires didn't puke and she really felt like she might.

She can feel Klaus behind her on the ground. He's tense, his breathing harsh and audible so she assumes he's in much the same state as she is. Which isn't good _at all_.

Caroline heaves herself onto her back, intent on asking Klaus what _the hell_ is happening, but an immense weight settles onto her chest, and she chokes on his name. His eyes fly open, wide and alarmed, a hoarse grunt the only sound he seems capable of making. She watches in horror as his face begins to turn blue, as he struggles, even as she weakly kicks her legs in a futile attempt to dislodge whatever imaginary force that is suffocating her, her panic growing with every inhale she skips.

This is how she'd died.

It's not something she'd ever wanted to relive though sometimes her subconscious was a real piece of work that liked to torture her. Caroline occasionally experiences nightmares that left her bed soaked in sweat and her unable to even contemplate going back to sleep. This is worse.

She feels a something brush against her fingers just as darkness bleeds into her field of vision. Caroline finds herself latching on instinctively, Klaus' hand hot in hers.

At least she's not alone this time.

* * *

Just like the last time she'd been smothered Caroline awakens with a gasp, disoriented to find herself alive when she'd been sure it was the end. She flinches at the touch to her shoulder, relaxes when she recognizes the voice. It's pitched soft and reassuring, and her hair is smoothed from her face by careful fingers. "Shh, Caroline. You're fine. It's me."

His hand wraps around her bicep, tugging her up gently and she lets Klaus help her sit upright. Her body _aches_ , her bones feel ground together and brittle. She swallows hard, cracking her neck with a grimace. "Ugh. What was _that_?"

"Magic," Klaus supplies succinctly. "Powerful stuff."

"Of course it was," Caroline grumbles. She squints at her surroundings, the thick canopy of trees. They're not the same ones that had been there when she'd blacked out. Had Klaus moved her for some reason?

Klaus speaks again, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant, "I'm afraid I have some bad news."

Caroline laughs, dry and harsh, "Awesome. Of course you do. Some freaking rainbows and sunshine is obviously too much to ask for. Lay it on me, Klaus. What steaming heap of total _shit_ have we landed in?"

He sighs, nods behind her and Caroline turns slowly mindful of the protesting of her sore muscles. There are two men standing in a tiny clearing, staring vacantly into the distance. By itself, that wouldn't have alarmed Caroline but she's smart enough to quickly note the many things that are _off_ about them.

They have a horse, which isn't exactly normal. And they're dressed in dull brown tones, leather leggings and coarse looking shirts that she can only describe as tunics. They're dusty looking, with scraggly beards and long hair.

What are the odds Klaus found two cosplayers in the forest in Mystic Falls? Not good.

"No way," Caroline breathes out. She gropes blindly for Klaus, her nails digging into the skin of his forearm when she grasps it. " _Please_ tell me I'm hallucinating. Hell, tell me you're _Silas_. Tell me I have gone completely insane and you're visiting me in a vampire looney bin."

Klaus makes no move to shake off her hold. His tone remains gentle and it's beginning to freak Caroline out. He's majorly pissed at her right now, she knows. The fact that he's making an effort to be _kind_ means they are _completely_ screwed. "I'm afraid I can't tell you any of those things, sweetheart."

"Who are they?" she asks, though she has a pretty good idea.

"Dinner," Klaus announces, blithely confirming her suspicions.

He begins to stand and Caroline hurriedly follows him, using her grip on him to haul herself up so she doesn't have to move the wrist that's still throbbing. "You can't _eat_ them," she insists. ""It's a basic rule of time travel! Change nothing. What if you kill them and screw up their ancestors? Maybe that one's great great great times whatever grandson cures polio or something!"

Klaus' face creases in skepticism, "I think you watch far too much television, love. Careful, it'll rot your brain."

She shakes him roughly, annoyed at the condescension. "Tell me, oh great knowing one, have you ever time traveled before? Did you even _know_ it was a thing?"

"No," Klaus admits, and she can tell it _kills_ him. "Few witches possess the sort of power your little friend can call upon so I going to assume it's exceedingly difficult to make happen."

"We don't _have_ to kill them," Caroline presses. "Drink enough to get by and send them on their way. What's the harm in being cautious?"

Klaus' eyes roll upward but he concedes, "Fine."

Caroline cracks a smile, finally releasing his arm, "Murder," she jokes, "not _always_ the answer, who knew?"

" _Not_ true. I've found it's often the most expedient way to go about things." Caroline levels him with an unimpressed look (was that _revelation_ supposed to be surprising?) and Klaus smirks, gesturing to the men. "But we can agree to disagree. Ladies first."

Caroline's eyes widen, realizing he wants her to drink from them, _in front of him_ , and her stomach clenches as her nerves go haywire. She's never _done_ that, unless you counted choking down thin, bitter animal blood in while Stefan watched. Somehow she doesn't think it's going to be similar, knows that Klaus watching her feed is in a whole other ballpark. One Caroline is pretty sure is way too dangerous to play in.

She takes a step back, glancing anywhere but at Klaus' curious face, unable to help babbling out a denial. "Oh! No, I mean… I'm fine. Good. Really, I had a huge breakfast so I don't need…"

Klaus scoffs, reaching out and tapping the injured wrist she's kept close to her body. It's the lightest touch imaginable, barely more than a brush, but it still sends a hot bolt of agony shooting up her arm. Caroline sucks in a breath through her teeth to keep from shouting, turning slightly so he can't repeat the action easily. "You're injured," he says, unnecessarily pointing out the obvious. "Judging from what they told me before you woke we've got quite a walk before we get to what passes for civilization in this century. You…"

"What century is that?" Caroline interrupts.

"Early 17th. I believe I recall a witch relatively nearby who might get us some answers. I don't know about you but I'm not content to wait on anyone who might deign to rescue us."

Caroline's in agreement. With everything going on at home she'd bet that 'Find Caroline and Klaus' would rank pretty low on the priority list. And wasn't _that_ a depressing thought. She'd need to save her own ass and she was smart enough to know that Klaus – with his bajillion years and old connections – was her best bet for getting home.

"Then I'll find a meal when we get to wherever we're going," Caroline tries. At least then she could feed _privately_.

The low noise Klaus lets out is nearly a growl. "You drink from them and you'll heal in an hour or so. Otherwise it could take days. It's perfectly simple. Unless," Klaus continues, a challenging glint in his eye as he pulls his sleeve up and lifts his arm, "they're not to your taste? I suppose I could be convinced to donate some of my blood."

Um, no. That's not happening. She's not proud of the dreams she's had about Klaus the other times she'd had to drink his blood. Does her very best not to think of them. There's no way she's risking a repeat when they're likely going to be forced to remain in close proximity in the coming days.

One look at the determined set of Klaus' face tells Caroline that this is not a fight he's going to let go of. She considers her options. They can go back and forth, for god knows how long, or they can actually get on with the business of figuring out a way to get back to the 21st century with its conveniently packaged blood and indoor plumbing.

Throwing up her good hand in exasperation Caroline relents, "Ugh, fine. Just _don't_ watch me. It's creepy."

She stalks passed him, scrutinizes the two men carefully, trying to figure out which one is less filthy. There's no clear winner and in the end she approaches the larger of the two, attempting a reassuring smile. He doesn't react, and she gently nudges his head to the side, standing on her tiptoes to get at the artery in his neck. "Sorry," she mumbles, letting her fangs descend.

She can feel Klaus watching her, even though she'd asked him not to. Caroline hopes he can't see that her hands are trembling.

She bites down, trying not to tear too badly. Wounds were iffy these days, right? Antibiotics weren't something people had available. Caroline figures there's no need to make her argument to let the humans live be _completely_ pointless.

Until the blood hits her tongue, rich and sweet, and all she can think is _more_.

A hungry little noise falls from her, muffled in skin and she presses closer, her eyes falling shut in bliss as her hands grip with more force. The man doesn't struggle, he's docile under Caroline's hold. Some dark part of her, one she keeps carefully buried, wishes that he _would_.

It's been _so long_ since she's had this.

Blood from bags is fine, does the trick and keeps her going, but the slight plastic-y aftertaste kind of marred the whole experience. It's like diet food, artificial and not wholly satisfying.

This is a _feast_ , decadent and delicious, and Caroline forgets to be careful, gulping greedily, uncaring that she's spilling.

It's Klaus who tears her away, and she whirls on him with a snarl. He blocks that hand that had gone for his throat, easily propelling her back and using his hips to press her against the tree. His fangs are out, eyes glowing hybrid yellow, and his voice is a rough grate that makes Caroline shiver, "Easy, love. You're the one who didn't want to kill."

She swallows, tries to breathe through her nose, grasping for sense. Klaus' eyes have fallen to her lips, hot and intent. Caroline goes very still as his hand comes up to cup her face. "So pretty when you let yourself be what you were meant to be," he rumbles, his thumb swiping up the trail of blood that had dripped down her chin.

She can't do anything but watch as he brings his thumb to his mouth, licking the blood from it with a low, satisfied hum. She feels it, in all the places they're pressed together, and her stomach clenches with something that's definitely _not_ nerves.

It's arousal. Thick and potent. The smallest nudge away from becoming need.

Klaus could dip his head, lick the rest of the blood from her mouth. Caroline knows she wouldn't do anything to stop him. She would open to him, welcome his weight pinning her to the tree. Her legs would wrap around his hips and she'd sink her fangs into his plush lower lip so she could taste _him_. She would smile when he moaned for her.

She almost grabs for him when he pushes off the tree, the stab of pain from her still healing hand the thing that stops her, lets the smallest cold breeze of rationality creep in.

Caroline sags against the tree, blearily watching Klaus walk back to the two travellers as she tried to get her body under control. She forces her fangs away, wills her heart to stop pounding. The way he moves is mesmerizing, the deliberate steps he takes. She'd almost call it hunting. Distantly she realizes that watching him feed is a _terrible_ idea feeling like she does now. There's blood in her mouth, exhilaration in her veins, the echo of the feel of him pressed against her lingering on her skin. She's feels a little out of control. She feels like she could do _anything_ and Caroline finds she kind of likes it.

She should turn away.

She doesn't.

Klaus isn't careful like she had been, Caroline notes, his hands adjusting the man's body to his satisfaction. There are no apologies made as he prepares to take, no delicate slicing through flesh.

He bites and her mouth waters, a pang of envy nagging at her.

She doesn't look away, not even when Klaus finishes, leaves the man he'd fed from swaying on his feet. He turns and Caroline's eyes drop to his bloody mouth. His smirk is feral, _inviting_ and she wonders what blood tastes like on his tongue.

She is in _so much_ trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline attempts to acclimate to her new surroundings, and proximity with Klaus, with mixed results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By request!

**Bloody Thump (Part Two)**

Caroline needs a little distance.

Her heart continues thrumming erratically as she watches Klaus feed, she's digging her nails into her palms until it hurts, mentally screaming at herself to _look away_.

It was so, so wrong to find this hot.

Admonishing herself is useless. She _can't_ stop watching.

She's not sure how much time passes until Klaus seems and a soft noise of satiation drifts from him, loud in the stillness of the clearing. It does _nothing_ to loosen the knot of arousal sitting low in her belly, pushes her traitorous brain into imagining what the sound would feel like if he muffled it in her skin.

She's not picky. The soft plane of her inner thigh, the curve of her breast, the crook of her shoulder.

Fuck.

If she's going to manage not to shove _him_ against another tree she needs to leave. Now.

Caroline mumbles something about washing up and whirls, walking blindly into the woods.

There had to be a stream or something somewhere, right?

Hopefully it was really freaking cold.

* * *

When she returns, mouth clean and rinsed until she no longer tasted blood, heartbeat finally settled, it's to find that Klaus had sent the travelers on their way, their footsteps fading in the distance. She's wary, half expecting him to needle her about her reaction to drinking that man's blood and undo all the effort she'd put into calming down.

She had resolved to be cordial, recognizing that Klaus was on her team at the moment and that tabling the things she'd been pissed about when they'd been sent here was the smartest thing to do. If he pushes her, however, Caroline's not certain she can be sensible and mature.

Thankfully he makes no mention of it though Caroline highly doubts it won't come up again unless they manage to find a _very_ quick solution to their current problem. As she approaches he's strictly business, eyes scanning her over, lingering on her wrist. She flexes it pointedly, and he nods in approval.

Klaus informs her that he'd interrogated the travelers more thoroughly before releasing them. That he's gotten additional info both about their location and the nearest pockets of civilization. That he'd ransacked their belongings but hadn't taken anything, having found nothing of value other than a flask that contained a variety of liquor that Klaus thought might be liable to cause blindness.

"Too good for moonshine?" she asks. Surely he'd had worse? Damon would drink rubbing alcohol in a pinch and Klaus seemed equally fond of his libations. She's kind of come to assume it's a given for vampires. "It's probably not smart but I could go for some serious booze right about now."

Klaus shakes his head and promises that he'll find her something more palatable soon. Caroline's totally planning on holding him to that.

He sums up his findings for her, informing Caroline that they were still in Virginia. Bemoans the fact that the pair of travelers they'd stumbled across was entirely human, not a single connection to any of the vampires or witches of the time that Klaus could name. His shoulders are tense with frustration when he's finished. "The internet really does make things so much easier," he grumbles and Caroline actually cracks a smile.

"Is there an order an evil minion service I should know about?" she teases, glad that there's _something_ to laugh at. "Www dot witchy solutions dot com, maybe?"

Klaus relaxes slightly, a small smile flitting over his lips. "No. Or not _yet_ , at least. But I've high hopes for the future. Progress _is_ always happening and some witches are remarkably fond of money."

Caroline snorts incredulously, "Who isn't?"

He inclines his head, conceding the point, before gesturing to the east. "Time to start walking, love. Our travelling friends mentioned a small village that we should be able to get to in under a half hour. There's an inn. I thought we'd spend the night, firm up our plans."

Well, it's not like Caroline has a better option.

She turns in the direction he'd indicated squinting until she can see faint imprints in the dirt. The path isn't particularly worn down but it _is_ there and she sighs as she begins to walk. If she'd been human she'd be paying for all this hiking tomorrow with misery and aching thighs.

It's a small comfort.

They lapse into silence once more, one far easier to deal with than the seething awkwardness they'd shared just hours ago, back in the 21st century.

Caroline supposes that truces had been made under _far_ less extreme circumstances.

She eyes her surroundings with interest, once again struck by the weirdness of the situation. She recognizes nothing but the forest _feels_ familiar even if the unnatural stillness, how _quiet_ it is, gives her a tiny hint of the creeps.

She never thought she'd miss annoying plane sounds overhead or stumbling over broken beer bottles.

Klaus is at her back once more and she has to admit his presence is almost… comforting. Not something she'd ever thought she'd feel. But, she rationalizes, it _is_ still the full moon. It's entirely possible, given the history of the area, that there's a werewolf or two tearing through the trees somewhere nearby. Caroline has no interest in a bite _or_ a fight with an aggressive ball of fur but at least she had backup and a handy cure at her disposal should she be _that_ unlucky. Had she been alone, or even with Stefan, she'd have been screwed in such a scenario. Tracking down 17th century Klaus in the hopes that he could still cure her pre-hybridness would have been close to impossible. Plus, _that_ Klaus might have even killed them since, if Caroline wasn't mistaken, he was in the thick of a hyper paranoid running from psycho dad stage of existence.

She whirls to face him, her curiosity getting the best of her, slowing to walk backward on the path, "Hey, where are you right now? Not you _you_ obviously but the _you_ who belongs here. I'm pretty sure time travel rules frown upon you two having any kind of face to face meet up. One of you might explode or something."

The faint sigh Klaus emits suggests that he's still not totally onboard with following the rules she thinks they should. Caroline raises her brows pointedly, silently pushing for an answer. "Europe," he tells her. "We spent the bulk of the 17th century flitting between cities. The population's took a bit of a hit because of the periodic outbreaks of illness but it's still easier to hide in a mass of people than in the countryside."

Caroline could admit that made sense though she knew there was more to it. "And they could be a handy pile of cannon fodder if you needed to make a getaway, huh?"

"So strategic," Klaus muses, a hint of admiration warming his eyes.

Caroline rolls her eyes and ignores the compliment even though it's a _tiny_ bit nice that Klaus likes her brain. "It's an easy assumption. You wouldn't care about humans dying if it meant that you lived."

"Does that bother you?" Klaus asks, eyes narrowing, tone hardening slightly.

"Um, duh," Caroline drawls. "I'm never going to be pro mass murder for my own gain."

This time his laugh is cold and he takes a larger step, eyes boring into her as he eases into her space. "Interesting. _Unlike_ me, I suppose?"

Caroline swallows hard but nods, her nerves beginning to twitch with the knowledge that she'd hit one of Klaus' and that she needs to tread carefully. She'd believed Klaus all those weeks ago, thought he'd meant it when he'd said he'd never hurt her again. But she wasn't stupid enough to assume he'd never changed his mind after making a promise.

He could get back home just as easily if she wasn't tagging along.

The noise he makes is contemplative, a touch mocking, and she can't look away from the anger kindling in his expression, "What about your dear friend Elena and her faithful servants, the Salvatores? After all, _my_ brother and the thousands of vampires in his line were, to them, a fair sacrifice for the mere _possibility_ that her humanity could be returned, were they not? All because she's _weak_ ," he spits, venomous and derisive.

She'd been right. She'd poked a hell of a nerve.

It's second nature to defend her friends but Caroline can't force the words out around the lump in her throat. She's willfully decided _not_ to think about what Elena and Jeremy had done, what it _meant_. To consider the thousands of vampires who might have been just like her - turned against their will and just trying to make the most of it – was pointless, she told herself. It was done and it's not like she'd been responsible.

Secretly she's glad she hadn't been included in that particular plot. Would she have gone along with it, told herself that he loyalty to the people she'd grown up with was more important than strangers with possibly dubious feeding habits? Could she have _lived_ with that?

"She's not weak," Caroline manages, lifting her chin stubbornly. "She's just having a hard time adjusting. She never wanted to be a vampire. If Rebekah hadn't killed her…"

Klaus cuts her off with a harsh noise, "Elena _chose_ to become a vampire. She should have been prepared to deal with the consequences. She had a better idea than most."

"Still," Caroline says, groping for an argument.

Klaus is _not_ having it. "Did you _want_ to be a vampire? Did your friends bend over backwards to help you, literally opening their veins for your convenient feeding? The Donovan boy was your boyfriend once upon a time, was he not? Did he let you bite him?"

As much as Caroline tells herself she's not bitter about how her friends, her _mother_ , had reacted to her turning sometimes it hits her, a wave of resentment and anger that she's never really been able to properly vent. She grits her teeth together to beat it back, "We're not talking about _me_."

"Perhaps we should, sweetheart." His lips twist sardonically as he continues, condescension dripping from every vowel and consonant, purposefully poisonous. "I highly doubt you often get the opportunity considering dear _Elena's_ circumstances are ever so much more dire and tragic."

"That offer is significantly less charming this time around," Caroline mutters, hoping he'll just _drop_ it.

"Ah, _we're_ a bit more honest now, aren't we? You're not attempting to monopolize my attention at Damon's bidding. You offered me all sorts of charming smiles and pretty words that night, Caroline. But I've often wondered how many were true. Give me something real now. Have you ever fed from a human before? Did you lose control? Is that why it scares you?"

Another thing she doesn't allow herself to dwell on. "I didn't know what was happening to me."

Klaus softens, if only infinitesimally. "Nor did I. Only that it _hurt_ and that I needed something I could not name. I killed. Did you?"

"Not at first. There was a blood bag. Then a nurse. I managed to stop but later…" she glances away, taking a shaky breath. "His name was Carter. He worked at my school. His family reported him missing and I had to act concerned and horrified when my mom talked about it over dinner. I've never been brave enough to ask what happened to his body."

When she chances a glance at Klaus she finds him watching her steadily. She searches his features, knowing she'll find no judgement. Maybe that's why she'd told him.

"Anyway," Caroline says, attempting to sound upbeat, "Since then it's pretty much just been bunnies and blood bags. I think of it like a diet and count my blessings that I can stuff myself with fatty foods to my heart's content these days without having to worry about splitting the seams of my cheer uniform."

He lets her shift the subject, "A common sublimation tactic for young vampires."

"What, you never tried it? Oh, wait, I bet food was kinda gross 1000 years ago. Binging would have been less fun."

A hint of amusement smooths the anger in Klaus' face, "It was certainly different. I had few complaints at the time though I imagine _you_ might have thought it 'gross'."

Caroline shrugs, turning back around. "I'm a 21st century girl. I need chocolate and Doritos to keep from eating my annoying classmates, sue me."

Klaus hums, "Well, if necessary we can find you chocolate, love. Though I'm afraid you're out of luck for the other. That vile fake cheese dust won't be invented for quite a while. It's too bad I've no idea who's responsible for it. I'd not mind wiping _his_ line out and preventing it's conception."

Caroline gasps, glancing back over her shoulder, "It's not _vile_."

Klaus looks distinctly unimpressed, "It gets _everywhere_. I had to burn a chair I've had for two hundred years because it was covered in orange fingerprints. And the smell," his face takes on a look of revulsion and Caroline is certain that he _actually_ shudders.

So dramatic.

She finds herself giggling quietly anyway but the sound cuts off quickly when Klaus sets a hand on her hip, stilling her forward momentum. Caroline freezes, instantly on alert, kicking herself forgetting that they were currently in the midst of a Code Red on steroids kind of situation. "What is it?" she breathes, trying to focus her senses.

Klaus hand tightens for a moment before dropping, "It's nothing to be alarmed about, sweetheart. We're just nearing out destination and we can't walk into the inn we're going to stay at dressed like this if we wish to remain inconspicuous."

Caroline glances down, "Oh. I guess ladies wearing pants was kind of frowned upon, huh? A burn at the stake kind of offense?"

"Precisely. Additionally the fabrics will be unfamiliar, the seams are too clean to have been done by hand, and zippers have yet to be invented. We'll stick out and we can' have that."

"Yikes," Caroline says, for lack of a better way to sum up her feelings as understanding dawns. The reality was sinking in, the vast list of things she didn't _know_ beginning to seriously freak her out.

Who knew Klaus could be the one doing the distracting?

"I should have taken some things from those men but I thought you'd dislike sending them out into the elements weakened by blood loss and without proper attire."

Caroline casts a disbelieving glance at him, "Wait, what? It's not even cold."

Klaus grins, "And _perhaps_ I did not wish to wear something quite so… soiled."

She rolls her eyes but feels a bit of her looming panic recede in the face of Klaus' calmness, "Someone's become a bit of a princess in their old age, hmm? Used to his abundance of fancy modern henleys and jeans?"

"Do you like them?" he asks innocently. "I'll confess that as far as comfortable clothing goes the current era is probably my favorite. So far, at least."

Caroline scoffs, completely unwilling to admit that yeah, she kinda does. Klaus did not need the compliment _or_ the encouragement. "Quit trying to get me to tell you you're pretty. You must have stopped me because you have a plan, right? Spit it out."

Klaus sighs like he's put out but sobers quickly. "Nothing dramatic, love. We just need to find a straggler and perform a petty thievery."

"AKA force some poor soul to enact one of those awful 'wake up naked' dreams?"

Klaus seems unconcerned with a 17th century random's mental health and Caroline isn't really either. She's just unable to help falling into a snarky rhythm when Klaus is so good at tossing barbs right back.

What? Witty company was hard to find in high school.

"And then one of us will slip in and procure us a room with a little compulsion," Klaus continues. "Once situated they'll open the window and whoever's left behind will flash over and jump without being seen. Sound feasible?"

Caroline nods. She kind of likes that he's not assuming he'll be doing all the dirty work that he's pragmatic enough to realize that it's entirely possible they'll happen across a woman and that he's got enough confidence in her abilities to have zero qualms about sending her to actually _do_ something.

It's stupid, and kind of depressing, but Caroline's just so used to Damon shooting down her every thought like she's a completely incompetent moron.

Ugh, if only she could get away with punching him again without having to deal with the bitchfit pout fest Elena would inevitably throw to protest the affront to Damon's honor or whatever.

Klaus doesn't seem to have noticed her drifting thoughts, "Good. I can just hear voices so the treeline should break in another few dozen paces. Get low when the foliage begins to thin out and we'll wait for an opportunity."

He waits for her to begin moving again and Caroline makes an effort to keep her steps quiet. She can't hear anything yet but she knows Klaus' senses are better than hers so she trusts his estimate.

It's a new feeling, trusting Klaus. Caroline knows she's going to have to get used to it if they're going to manage to get home.

* * *

They hadn't had to wait long. It had been a woman to appear, shorter and fuller than Caroline was, carrying two empty buckets. She'd acted without thinking, covering the woman's mouth and compelling her not to scream. Klaus had hung back and once again Caroline had been bizarrely warmed by the fact that he wasn't forcing her to play a supporting role.

She'd only taken the outer dress, leaving the woman in a slip type thing. She'd told the woman to hurry home, immediately get into bed and to make sure she wasn't seen. Caroline then compelled her to forget the whole thing.

Klaus had been silent, had murmured praise for a job well done when the woman had left them. She'd thanked him, because it was only _polite_ , before darting away to find a tree to change behind.

She'd been really unimpressed with just how itchy the fabric of the stolen dress was, tugged at it, pulling it away from her skin with a frown etched on her face when she'd rejoined Klaus. "I feel like I have bed bugs," she'd complained.

"Now you know what I meant about comfort," he'd shot back. "Is it my turn to call you princess?"

She'd shoved him, more playfully than not, and tossed him her discarded clothes before she'd stalked away. The rest of their plan had gone off with nary a hitch, Caroline had procured them a room and hadn't even felt bad because the innkeeper guy hadn't even attempted to hide the fact that he was leering at her boobs.

 _Why_ Caroline didn't know because she did not fill out the ill-fitting bodice _at all_.

There's only one bed but Caroline doesn't have the energy to be upset about it. They had _way_ bigger issues so their truce would just have to allow for some uncomfortably awkward proximity. She flops onto it face first, wincing when she discovers it's filled with poky things. She pushes herself up on to her elbows blowing her hair out of her face, "Do I even _want_ to know what this is made of?"

"Feathers and straw," Klaus supplies. "More straw than feathers at this type of establishment, I'd wager. And about those bedbugs…"

She lets out a squeak of alarm, flinging herself off the bed and landing on a heap on the floor. She doesn't even care that it hurt, "Oh my god, _please_ tell me you're joking."

"I'm joking," he parrots, looking down at her, his face too blank to be believed.

Caroline scrubs her hands over her face. "This is hell," she moans. "Hell is real and it's filled with icky scratchy things and weird smells and probably awful food and filthy people who taste delicious. There's nothing fun and happiness hasn't been invented yet."

Klaus is still staring at her, a brow lifted in shock. Caroline glares as she sees his lips twitch in what is _definitely_ amusement at her expense. "Don't laugh at me," she orders. "You already lived through this. I'm allowed a little bit of a freak out before I adjust and regroup and make the 17th century my bitch, okay?"

He backs away, hands held out placatingly, maintaining his silence. Caroline hears him settle on to the bed. Klaus clears his throat, "It's really not as bad as all that. I seem to recall that a fair number of happy people and fun things have always existed."

"Like what?" Caroline asks morosely.

" _I've_ always liked painting. You enjoy dancing, do you not? That's a pastime far older than you, love. Sports. Sex. Games, parties, theater. Do you want me to go on?"

She sits up, eyes him skeptically, "Are you seriously giving me a pep talk right now?"

He folds his hands under his head, shifting like it's possible to get comfortable in such a god awful bed, "It appears so. How am I doing?"

"Okay," Caroline admits grudgingly, heaving herself to her feet. "I wouldn't look into life coaching as a side gig or anything but I am convinced that I'm _maybe_ not actually in hell. Thanks for trying."

Klaus accepts her gratitude, smiling up at her before tipping his head to the side, "I set your things on the washstand and I promise to keep my eyes closed while you change."

Her eyes narrow slightly as she studies him closely. Klaus doesn't so much as fidget under her scrutiny and Caroline finally breaks the eye contact and goes to retrieve her jeans. She'll be super uncomfortable but the alternative – sleeping in a possibly infested bed, with _Klaus_ , while not fully clothed – is completely out of the question.

Wait, had he really listed _sex_ in his little recital of fun past times?

She glances back at him, finds his eyes dutifully closed. "So you're telling me people routinely had sex in freaking straw mattresses? Ugh, there are areas where I _do not_ want to be poked."

She half expects him to crack an eye open and peek over at her. He has to be able to hear that she hasn't started to change yet. But, surprisingly, his eyes remain closed even as he laughs softly. "It's not possible you're surprised by that, Caroline. The fact that people are less than discerning about something so minor as _location_ when it comes to satisfying their sexual needs should be exceedingly obvious to anyone who's spent significant time with what passes for a teenage boy in our present time."

Maybe he's got a point. She begins unbuttoning her dress, watching Klaus carefully. There's a slight clench to his jaw but no reaction otherwise and Caroline hurriedly strips and redresses. She tugs her hair out of her collar, "There, I'm decent. Now move over and stop hogging the bed. I call at _least_ half."

He shifts over without complaint but the bed's not that big and Caroline has to hug the edge to avoid touching him. They hadn't bothered lighting any of the candles in the room, both more than able to see from the light of the moon spilling into the open window.

She'd just beginning to drift, able to forget where she is and welcome a stretch of unconsciousness because it's been a long freaking day when Klaus speaks, carefully neutral, "You'll have to feed again."

Caroline's been trying not to think about it. She makes a noise, acknowledging that she's heard him but otherwise stays quiet.

"If," Klaus begins, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant, "you'd like to feed on animals for… however long we're here, I won't attempt to stop you. I'll even try not to comment overmuch."

"There sounds like there's a but in there," Caroline says, bracing herself. Last time Klaus had been all soft and kindly she'd been smacked in the face with the revelation that they'd poofed three hundred plus years into the past. She comforts herself with the fact that whatever he's getting at now can't possibly be _that_ bad.

He makes his point without any more hedging, "It's possible we'll have to travel. The trains and boats available to us aren't nearly so swift as the ones you're accustomed to."

She really hadn't thought that far ahead but she can see the issue clearly. It was doubtful she'd find animals that would sustain her if they were cooped up for a long voyage. She drew the line at eating rats or other possibly plague filled vermin. "So basically my only option might sometimes be people or dessication," Caroline sums up, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to let her anxiousness at the news show. "Or, you know, _you_."

"Which you seemed rather reluctant to consider before. I could teach you. If you wanted."

"I'll think about it," Caroline says, her brain already beginning to turn over the offer. Would there be a catch? Would he want something in return? She'd have to get more details before she accepted or declined.

"We can talk about it in the morning," Klaus agrees. "We've plenty of time. And a witch to track down."

He's right, there's was no real rush, Caroline knew. She'd be good until at least the day after tomorrow with how much blood she'd had earlier. She'd have to weigh the pros and con carefully but she found she wasn't completely against the idea.

Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be the worst thing. If she knew she could do it, became accustomed to the taste of fresh blood, then it wouldn't be so tempting, would it? She wouldn't have to fear losing control and draining someone dry. It's something she'd considered from time to time, a big believer in the theory that practice made perfect. But asking Stefan to face his vast issues with drinking from humans seemed mean and asking Damon was out of the question. If Klaus didn't pile on the strings this could be a good opportunity.

She didn't want to kill anyone so she'd never experimented on her own. Klaus was strong enough to stop her, she knew that, had _seen_ it just hours ago.

She turns onto her side, curling her arm under her head. "Night, Klaus," she murmurs, letting her eyes flutter shut.

"Goodnight, Caroline."

She listens to his breathing, deep and even and steady and allows herself to relax, knowing that whatever else she'll have to deal with in the coming days at least she's safe right now.

Was Klaus a bad guy? Sure. Right now that didn't matter. Caroline would take the tiny piece of comfort available to her and tell the nagging little voice that insisted she should feel guilty to shove it.

She'd do what she had to do fix this. Then she'd deal with the consequences.


End file.
